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Suspect of Inquisition(Quicklime)


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"I sensed a shadow here."

 

The Crystal Empire's snowy wastelands to the far north were a dangerous and inhospitable place. Only pegasi who trained for biting cold weather flight soar overhead. But not in a deep blizzard. And hardly this time of day nor every day.

 

"A once great shadow now cast to that of a small, withering shade from the light."

 

Through the piercing, blinding ice and wind, the air riddled with speckles of thick and heavy snowflakes, piling on 6inches by the hour meant that he were now on high altitude. No average stallion or mare would dare venture so far into the tundra without some sort of prior use to the frost. And some nifty spells on top of a thick, enchanted cloak.

 

"A somber shadow... One who'd forsaken everything for great gain only to be left with the heritage he'd born into..."

 

A single, piercing white ray of white light pans through the howling darkness... like a lighthouse on the prowl. Reflecting off the white and technically making visibility bright but the sheer density of airborne particles still made it all look white and barren. It was the smell... no the presence of a darkness; wounded and writhing inside coming ever closer. Only a special pony could trace this kind of presence.

 

"Nothing."

 

With snow up to his belly, his mane frosted to his skull.. his hat luckily held down by his lengthy ears and lengthy horn.. A set of glowing, sapphire eyes soon join the origin of such a beautiful spotlight. Casting in that of a white orb floating just above the tip of his arcane spire. Armed only with a hitched to his belt and the two articles of clothing.. and perhaps saddlebags littered with food... A lone stallion shuffled through the ice patch. Not pacing the earth beneath him so much as the peaks of mountains in the distance.

 

When you venture through the blinding white out you don't trek aimlessly.. you look for something in the distance otherwise ponies end up rounding in lame circles only to freeze to death. Not to say he wasn't cold.. but his robes bought him a considerable amount of time. And he had come here willfully. In pursuit of a rumor that... for all intensive purposes did not actually unsettle him all that much.

 

Defeated as this presence were it could potentially pose a threat, yes.. But what was the point? The Somber Shadow could not attain enough power to threaten Equestria any longer. He'd done his fair share of research into the subject nigh a week before plodding out from the Imperial Capital. The Crystal Heart would forever bane a foe from threatening the North.

 

The Elements to the South rendered the need to hunt sterile in the land of Equestria.

 

So for all intents and Purposes... The Inquisitor were still on Vacation. Had he been in Whitescar or Unyasi he'd have capitalized on this issue, claiming that any and all presence of Dark Magic be thwarted and destroyed... burned to a smoldering crisp if possible.. An experience he sought as something of a guilty pleasure. He performed fowl acts in the knowledge that no matter how cruel it may appear... the results are beneficial to everypony. Whether they argue his point or not.

 

Thus he were relentless come the usual upstarts. But this were an entirely different situation. And even strong practitioners of Anti-Dark Magic such as Twilight Sparkle would only find scrutiny for him had he'd come to behead somepony. That kind of thing didn't look so great in the eyes of the average Equestrian Citizen.

 

But he still wanted to feed into his curiosity. His eyes though narrowed to fend off the cold were clearly making attentive motions.. Peering into the distance; a thick tan scarf and underguard of warm wool shielding his exposed portions from the ice whilst his powerful cloaks endured the brunt of the snarling cold.

 

"But from nothing you can build Anew. Perhaps that is why I am here... Not only to sight see. I must be cautious and yet.. Should I truly be? I know not how powerful this shadow still remains. A threat ... He.. Could pose. but we've yet to be certain of that. He will not be expecting me. Though I am positive he senses my presence."

 

What's this? The foot of a mountain stands before him. Stopping as he notes.. not physical tracks; but a lingering aurum. Like a stench. Or a blood splatter. Well versed in tracking the essence of somepony torn to agony by the sheer weight of the evils they've committed. Committed using the Abyssal Arts. The evil of the supernatural world bleeding into their reality. Of all magical planes it were Dark Magic he truthfully believed should be eliminated without regard. It only ever brought sadness.

 

"Sombra...", he utters aloud, the snow blotting him out as his eyes follow the slight workings of a path up into the high-peek. He could see it. Where the shadows casted by his radiant light pooled and formed the indention of a cave. Like a well battered machine the stallion begins to hasten up the mountainside. He were already at such a high altitude he knew not what the interior of this cave would bode... but he hadn't much of a choice and he very much wanted to be out of this blizzard.

 

"I do wonder if he will be violent. Cannot say I've ever spoken to an Evil King. I sha'll peg it off of my bucket list."

 

Dragging his long limbs through the snow, hardly stumbling over some buried rocks, his horn flares. Drawing his sword and recasting his revealing light. 100 meters later his cloaks drag into the hulk of this cavern entrance. The snow still mingling in.. But now he could see. The bowing stones, the shadows cast long by his seeking gaze... Finally some clarity; no more white-out.

 

His iron sword hovered beside his head.. it weren't immediate suspect but rather a sort of muscle memory to anticipate a hoofful of fowl beasts the come rushing you at the front door. When it were clear it were quite vacant. He sheathed his weapon... awkwardly clearing his throat before taking some deep, relaxing breaths.

 

For as experienced as he were in such a situation.. you couldn't say that he couldn't be nervous anymore. This were an entirely different level of becoming one with shadow. If those books and tomes were not lying to him that is. Even in a weakened state.. getting the jump on his stallion could mean his untimely end.

 

The shuffling of Umek's hooves and his wears + saddlebags were now an echoing   sound fleeting down the long hall of this deep cavern, "You are here.", he mutters in a somewhat observative distaste and in an unusually, earthern accent; a faint irish. Soft.. resounding. Not too aggressive.

 

Before long the snow had melted from his gait the deeper he lingered into this tunnel. His wide brimmed hat hung over his sapphiric eyes coupled with such deep, brown wears and tan underguard to keep the ice off of his exposed body where his robe could not protect him. He even took down his hood.. something he didn't often wear so that Umek could properly fixate his hat, "How deep into the underdark do you crawl, though.. I wonder."

://canterlot.ipbhost.com/uploads/gallery/album_1076/gallery_11407_1076_696308.jpg ((Something to this extent, but wrapped up even more for the Frost))

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